Mother, Please! (12 page)

M
ELISSA SPENT
the rest of the day busy at the clinic. Busy being relative, of course. She had only a few appointments, but coupled with her walk-ins for the afternoon, she figured she just might be able to pay the bills for the day.

That night she ate dinner alone in front of her television. She’d wanted Thai take-out, but there wasn’t any to be had. Sometimes she really missed Los Angeles, missed all the choices, the culture. Here, culture meant adding blue-cheese dressing onto a burger at the Serendipity Café, and even then, the waitress always gave her an odd look, as if she was massacring a perfectly good meal.

After making herself a quesadilla, she fed her reality-TV fix by watching
The Stud.
Watching twenty gorgeous women all competing in various humiliating “trials” for the attention of one man was both repelling and fascinating.

Who wanted a man that badly?

During the commercial breaks, she dug into her mail, most of which were bills, and more bills, ex
cept for the scented envelope. Staring at it, her heart kicked into gear.

Rose was trying again. She opened the pink envelope and spread out the flowered stationery covered in her mother’s writing. At forty-six, Rose had decided she wanted to be a part of her daughter’s life, the daughter she’d given up at birth for the ballet.

To be fair, Rose hadn’t
suddenly
decided—she’d been trying on and off for years. Melissa had deep misgivings about relationships in general; she had difficult with intimacy. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that was a product of being abandoned by Rose at age one, into the foster-care system. Moving from one foster-care family to another made it too painful to keep opening to people who would soon disappear from her life. So Melissa had closed up for self-protection, and had done too good a job of it.

She hadn’t seen Rose more than a handful of times her entire life—again, her own fault because in the past years Rose had sincerely made an effort—the last time being when Melissa had first moved here. Rose had shown up on her doorstep with a basket full of homemade brownies and a nervous offer to go to lunch. Startled, Mel had declined.

She wasn’t ready. What if Rose expected something from her that she couldn’t give? Mel had gone
too long without a mother to want a doting one now. And yet… Mel had moved here. No one had asked or coerced her; she’d come on her own to Martis Hills.

The why of that would have to be faced sometime, she supposed, but not now. She picked up the letter again.

A good sign?
Ha! After all those years of wishing she’d had a mother to braid her hair before school, hold her hand at the dentist, or simply hug her after the end of a long day, it was too late. Way too late.

Wasn’t it? Yes, Mel decided, refolding the letter. Long ago she’d outgrown the need for a mom. All the hard work of growing up was over, and she was quite content on her own.

Setting aside the letter, she got into bed. The light from the stars shone through her wide window in a way it could never have in Los Angeles. There the city lights had always blocked them out. She lay there, blinking up at the constellations that were so
incredibly beautiful. Unmoved, she figured she’d trade in this view in a heartbeat for a Starbucks run.

“P
SST
!”

No, he wasn’t ready to leave blessed slumber land. Jason Lawrence turned over.

“Psst.”

Damn it, he closed his eyes tighter and yanked the covers over his head.

“Jason, please. Please can you try again?”

It wasn’t the soft feminine plea that got him, but the squawk of a parrot.

He cracked open an eye. His bedroom was lit with the early-summer morning sun that slanted in through the windows, one of which held the face of…Dr. Melissa Anders?

Now he knew he was still dreaming. Dr. Melissa Anders was petite, with a dark cap of hair that accented her expressive jade eyes and a kissable mouth.

And a serious back-off attitude.

Eyes closed again, he grinned, because she probably had no idea how much he loved a feisty woman, and how her go-to-hell expression had only egged him on.

“Jason!”

He blinked. Nope. It wasn’t Melissa Anders standing outside his bedroom window, but
Rose
Anders.

Rose Anders holding a parrot. “Ah, hell,” he said.

Smiling sweetly, her short dark hair falling into her green eyes, she knocked on the window again and lifted the arm on which the parrot sat.

“No.” He sat up against the headboard. In order to beat back the nightmares, he’d written, pounding out the pages of the thriller he was working on until four in the morning, and it was…he squinted at the clock…just barely seven now.

He couldn’t function on so little sleep, he just couldn’t. If he wasn’t so stubborn, he might have taken one of the sleeping pills his doctor had given him after his accident, but he had a healthy fear of drugs, so he suffered the nightmares and the lack of sleep, and reminded himself that at least he was alive.

“Morning,” Rose said cheerfully. “You awake?”

Yes, because of her.

Just as he was alive because of her. And in return, all she wanted was this favor…. “Ah, hell,” he said again.

Rose just smiled. “Don’t worry. The parrot’s easier to handle than Bob. I’ll meet you at the front door.”

J
ASON SAT
in Dr. Melissa Anders’s waiting room, squeezed between an old man holding an even older
looking dog, and a teenage girl cradling a hamster. The old man and dog were napping, heads back, mouths open. The teenage girl was chomping a big wad of purple gum and staring at the scar down the side of his face.

In the six months since the accident, he’d gotten used to the stares, sort of. “What’s the matter with your hamster?”

“She has an abscess.” She stroked the little rodent, who in return, wriggled its nose at her. “Dr. Anders fixed Brownie’s sister so I’m hoping she can fix Sprinkles, too. Do you think she can?”

He looked into the earnest face with the hopeful eyes, the sweet freckles conflicting with the myriad of silver hoops up one ear. “I think your hamster is safe with Dr. Anders.”

“Yeah. She’s new, but she’s the best. Rose says so. She’s my ballet teacher.”

Jason thought about Rose’s plea. She was desperate to get to know the daughter she’d given up, and yet afraid, too. He knew that Rose could fully understand, and even justify Melissa’s standoffish attitude toward her. That, however, didn’t stop Rose from yearning to set things right between them.

Jason had no idea if Melissa was open to giving Rose a second chance. Right now he just wanted to fulfill his favor. “Ouch!” Jason grabbed his ear and turned his head to glare at the parrot. “If I liked the taste of feathers, I’d bite you back.”

He’d have sworn the bird smirked.

The old man woke up with a snort. “A bird makes a bad pet, son. You need something that naps a lot.”

They both looked at the dog on the floor at his feet who was snoring. Loudly.

“Maybe Dr. Anders can take a look at your face while you’re here,” the teenager said softly, eyeing his scar again. “Does it hurt?”

He got that question most. “No—”

The door to the middle patient room opened, and Melissa appeared in the doorway. She saw Jason sitting in her waiting room, and then she saw the parrot and lifted a brow. “Problem?”

Yep, I like looking at you.
“I have a bird that needs your attention—ouch!”

He slapped a hand to his poor, abused ear in tune to the parrot’s happy screech, and also something else. He looked at the teenage girl next to him. “Did you just laugh at me?”

She laughed again. “You scream like a girl.”

Melissa put a hand to her mouth, her eyes twinkling, and shook her head. “Don’t tell me, another pet problem?”

“Yes. I’m afraid of this parrot.”

“Uh-huh.” Melissa turned to the man next to him. “Mr. Tyson, I can see you now.”

The old man got up and patted Melissa on the
back. The dog, woken by the tug on his leash, licked her.

Melissa appeared to be a little flustered by the pat, but accepted the dog’s licking with a genuine smile.

After a few minutes all three reappeared, and then it was the teen’s turn. “Rose says to tell you hello.”

Melissa’s smile faltered, but the girl never noticed as she walked toward the patient room.

And then it was his turn. Melissa led him inside a patient room and stood close to him. Just when he was about to make a flirtatious comment, he realized her proximity had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the carnivorous bird perched on his shoulder. She made a kissing noise.

The parrot made it back.

She nodded her head.

The parrot nodded back.

Smiling now, Melissa reached out.

“I wouldn’t,” Jason warned. “She likes the taste of flesh.”

“No, she likes the taste of
your
flesh.” She coaxed the parrot onto her finger. “What seems to be the trouble?”

“Um…” He looked at the parrot and tried to remember what Rose had said to him this morning.
I know it seems obvious using my pets as bait, but
I’m at a loss here. Nothing else has worked. Get Melissa to trust you. Get her to talk.
“Well—”

“Rose,” said the parrot from her new perch on Melissa’s finger.

Melissa went still and stared at the bird. “What? What did she just say?”

Ah, hell. “She said she wants a rose. She likes to eat them. We’re here because she…” He’d forgotten what he was supposed to use as an excuse. Maybe it was Melissa’s fathomless green eyes, or maybe it was the heartbreakingly endearing way she’d tried to keep her patient’s owners at arm’s length…or maybe because he’d been half-asleep when Rose had dropped off the damn parrot.

“I think she ate a twig,” he said brilliantly. “And I’m not sure that’s good for her. I just wanted to have her checked out before I start work for the day.”

“Ten o’clock in the morning is pretty late to be starting the chores a farm requires.”

Farm. He lived in an old farmhouse, yes, but he was a writer, not a farmer. Then he remembered the form he’d filled out yesterday. She’d seen his address and assumed he farmed for a living.

Wouldn’t she be surprised to know that for years he’d been a misplaced city rat, not so unlike herself. “I set my own hours.”

Melissa gave him a long look, then silently
checked out the parrot. “She appears to be fine. And if you stop antagonizing her, she’ll relax.”

“
Me
antagonize
her?
” He laughed. “Oh, baby, have you got that wrong. Check out my poor ear.” Before he could think about what he was doing, he’d shrugged his hair away from his face and turned toward her, exposing his ear. And his scar. He remembered almost instantly, and stiffened, but before he could move back, Melissa put her free hand on his shoulder, holding him still. Her soft, warm breath fluttered over his skin and he was torn between mortification and an age-old stirring of his body.

“I have good and bad news,” she said.

Lifting his head, he managed to look her in the eyes.

“The bad news is that she did indeed get a good chunk out of you. The good news is that you have another ear.”

He stared at her, waiting for the inevitable, for her to mention his scar, to ask questions….

Instead, she lifted her eyebrows in a royal gesture. “Is that all? Because I probably have more patients waiting. And you probably have to get to work.”

“Maybe I’ll find another animal that needs you.”

Her pretty, glossy lips quirked. “I’m going to charge you every time you do. Is it really worth it?”

She thought he was coming here to flirt with her. Did she think he wanted a date? Wanted to kiss her?

Unexpectedly it hit him. He really did.

But his being here wasn’t about him. It was about Rose, and suddenly that put a sharp twist of guilt in his gut. He’d been concentrating on just being alive, living day to day, enjoying every single second. But not only had he begun a deception he didn’t know how to get out of, he did actually want what Melissa thought he wanted.

A date.

A kiss.

“Goodbye, Jason,” Melissa said quietly, with a finality to her voice that made him blink.

Goodbye. Damn. He’d had a lot of goodbyes in his life. His parents had died five years ago. His brothers, both in the army, had been overseas for the past six years.

He hated goodbyes. “See ya,” he said lightly, and felt a grim smile cross his face.

Because like it or not, he
would
be seeing her.

Knowing Rose, he’d be seeing a lot of Melissa.

T
HE NEXT DAY
,
Melissa carefully locked up the clinic at exactly six o’clock in the evening, just as she always did. She took a moment on the steps of the clinic to breathe in the clear air and to look around. The sparse landscape was punctuated by gentle, rolling hills dotted with the occasional tree or cow. So much…land. It definitely took getting used to.

Her usual routine was to head down the street to get her mail from the post office, and then to grab dinner. More often than not, this meant something to microwave from the freezer section of the grocery store. Once in a while, she’d grab something to go from the café. Either way, dinner usually came from a box.

She just didn’t have the time, nor the inclination, to cook. Maybe if there’d been a family waiting for her…

Nope. She couldn’t imagine herself a success in the kitchen even if a family was waiting for her.

But every so often, she wondered what it’d be
like to have dinner with people who loved her, who depended on her, who craved her company.

Then she remembered she wasn’t a people person. She was an animal person.

She went into the post office and unlocked her mailbox. Another pink envelope fell out.

With a sigh, she opened it right there on the spot. This way she could read it and toss it into the trash can at the end of the aisle, avoiding all tendencies to dwell, which she’d definitely do if she brought the letter home.

Mel read it again, and then again, evaluating her emotions. Maybe Rose could concentrate on the here and now, it certainly suited her to do that, but Mel wasn’t ready. She held the letter over the trash can, taken aback at the wave of regret that hit her.

“A bill, huh?”

With a little jerk, she turned and faced…Jason Lawrence. He stood there in his faded Levi’s, a dark T-shirt with an opened plaid shirt over the top of it, and a wide smile. He had his sunglasses shoved on top of his head, which left his hair sticking straight up. In his hand was a stack of mail.

She glanced at the letter in her hand again, and felt her heart tighten. “A bill would be preferable to this.”

“Really?” He reached for the pink envelope, but she yanked it behind her back.

“It’s none of your business.”

“No,” he agreed quietly, watching her face. “It sure isn’t. I just thought I might help you get rid of it, since it’s upsetting you.”

“I’m not upset.”

“If you say so.” He cocked his head and studied her. “You work hard today?”

“I suppose.”

He laughed. “I imagine you work hard every day, don’t you?”

“I like my work.”

“Listen, why don’t you let me buy you a drink? You can relax a muscle or two, maybe even breathe all the way in and out—”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

“You don’t know me.”

He scratched his jaw, the sound of his stubble making her fingers itch inexplicably. “I think I have a pretty good idea of who you are.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you?”

“You’re the woman who works from sunup till sundown because work defines you. You love your job and don’t understand others who don’t work as hard as you do. You go home most nights and look around at your quiet life and think, it’s okay that I’m alone, I have my work. You eat, also alone, you watch a little TV, and then you fall into bed, exhausted, staring at the ceiling wondering what it would be like to have someone hold you. Then you wake up in the morning and laugh at yourself, because you don’t need anyone to hold you, you’re fine, and then you start all over again.”

She could only stare at him. How did he know? How could he possibly know?

“How am I doing?” he asked softly.

“I don’t watch TV,” she said. “Much.”

He laughed. “Come with me tonight, Mel. Come enjoy yourself, away from the vet clinic.”

“Are you saying I never enjoy myself outside of work?”

“Are you saying you do?”

“All the time,” she lied.

“Really.” He leaned back against the row of
mailboxes, crossed his feet and took a lazy, easygoing stance as he called her on that lie. “Tell me the last thing you did just for fun.”

“That’s easy. I…” Honestly, this couldn’t be that hard. “Well, I—”

“Don’t hurt yourself now.”

The man was insufferable. “Just last night I took a bubble bath,” she said defiantly.

“Woo-hoo, party time.” Moving away from the mailboxes, he dumped his junk mail into the trash, then smiled at her, a slow, drawn-out smile that somehow made her pulse accelerate. “I’ve got a radical idea, so don’t pass out. How about trying something else that’s fun within twenty-four hours of your bubble bath?”

She eyed him. “What do you have in mind?”

“So suspicious. Dinner is what I have in mind.”

“Dinner,” she repeated. That didn’t sound so difficult. “I don’t know….”

“Too much fun for you?”

She had to laugh. “Okay, but just food, right?”

“Are you saying wild animal sex is out?”

She opened her mouth, saw the teasing glint in his eyes and let out a breath.

Stepping closer, he tugged lightly on a lock of her hair. “Relax, Doc. I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.” Serious now, he looked deep into her eyes.
“Ever.”

She looked down at the pink envelope in her fingers. Her mind wanted her to trash it, but apparently her heart had a bigger say in things, because she tucked it into her purse, which for some reason, made Jason smile at her.

Then he led her out of the post office and into the bright, warm sun, where the rest of the evening loomed large and terrifying in front of her.

T
HERE WEREN’T MANY CHOICES
for dinner in town. They could eat at the Serendipity Café, the Taco Bell Express, or at the bar at the Bulls Inn.

Deciding that none of those would do, Jason pulled up to the only grocery store in Martis Hills. He turned off the engine of his truck and looked over at Melissa. “You don’t by any chance trust me yet, do you?”

She lifted a brow.

“Thought not.” He eyed her carefully. She was nervous, he decided, and probably already sorry she’d agreed to this. He’d have to change that. “Okay, you can come inside with me, but you can’t change your mind about dinner until the next stop.”

He grabbed some fancy cheese and crackers, then ordered fried chicken and macaroni salad from the deli counter. Because he’d never been an organized shopper, they wandered through the store looking for wine and ended up in the pet aisle.

“Are you a dog person?” Melissa asked curiously.

He looked at the cans of dog food and tried to decide how to answer. He wasn’t much of an animal person, plus in his previous life—which hadn’t been that long ago—he’d traveled extensively, researching for his books, which ruled out having a pet. He’d loved that globe-trotting lifestyle but it had lost much of its appeal, so he didn’t do it anymore. Yet he still hadn’t amassed any animals.

But his neighbor, the woman who’d pulled him out of his car only seconds before the wreck had blown sky-high, now
she
was most definitely an animal person.

He’d told her he owed her, that he owed her big. He’d told her that he’d do anything, anything at all to help her when she needed it.

And damn if Rose hadn’t cashed in on that rash promise. Damn if she didn’t want him to help her get close to her daughter. Rose had told him how she’d put Melissa into the foster-care system because she was intent on finding a better life for the both of them. Rose had to get away from her abusive boyfriend and strict parents—parents that would in no way let their unmarried daughter bring a child out of wedlock into their house. She’d always planned on going back for Melissa, but it turned out to be harder than she had thought to go
back. Rose knew that asking for forgiveness of Melissa, and properly explaining herself while she was at it, would probably be the best route. But it was difficult, because Melissa harbored deep feelings on the matter.

As a result, Rose believed her only way into Mel’s heart was through the animals her daughter loved with all her heart.

Which meant Jason was most likely going to have to go through an entire menagerie before this was over in order to plead Rose’s case for her.

It was a long shot, both Rose and he knew that. But as he watched Melissa smiling at the posters of puppies advertising dog food, he had to admit, Rose might have been on to something. Only suddenly he didn’t want to be on to something at all, but out on a simple dinner date with no ulterior motive except for maybe getting a good-night kiss. Sorrier than hell that he’d ever agreed to Rose’s crazy plan, he hitched his head toward the next aisle. “Come on, we’re not quite finished.”

She followed him to the cookie section. “Dessert,” he said. “Pick one.”

A little laugh escaped her. “If I’d have known I was going to watch you go food shopping, I’d have grabbed a cart for myself.”

“Just tell me what kind of cookies float your boat.”

“I don’t eat cookies. They’re bad for you.”

“Sure, that’s what makes them so yummy.” He dumped some fudge cookies into the cart, then looked over their bounty and decided they were good to go. “Ready?”

“For what exactly?”

“You’ll see.” When he reached for her hand, she pulled it back.

“I’m not big on surprises,” she said.

And she wasn’t big on touching, either. He wondered if he could change both.

He paid for the groceries, loaded them and Melissa back into his truck and drove through town. He went past the second and then the last stoplight, and then went past the turn to get onto the main highway.

And he kept going, heading directly toward the still green and beautiful rolling hills.

“Where are we going?”

“I promised you dinner.”

She gazed at the wide-open scenery, but said nothing. As far as the eye could see there was nothing around but gentle hills lined with occasional fencing, holding in horses and cattle. They turned onto a dirt road that rose and twisted like the gnarled oak trees they’d passed.

And then they finally came to a small lake. Jason had been born and bred in this area, and though
he’d spent the past twelve years away, he still had fond memories here. Once upon a time while still in high school, he’d come here to make out. Not that he had any hopes for that tonight.

Melissa watched him guardedly. “What’s here?”

“A picnic.” He came around to help her down from the truck, then grabbed a blanket and the bag of food.

She looked at the blanket, and then at him. “You’re not going to need that.”

He laughed. “We’re going to eat on it.”

“That’s all we’re doing on it.”

“Right. No wild animal sex. I remember.”

They sat on the blanket at the water’s edge. Melissa just as far from him as she could get. In her neat black trousers and crisp white blouse, surrounded by the brilliant blue of the calm water and the wild green of the hills lining the lake, she looked beautiful. Her face was shaded by the three oak trees they sat beneath, and her dark short hair, cut in neat little layers that flipped up so adorably they made his fingers itch to touch them, lifted lightly in the breeze.

He poured the wine and took out the food, which they ate while she asked him about his work. “I should tell you, I’m a novelist,” he said, smiling at her surprise. “At the moment I’m trying my hand at a psychological thriller.”

She set down her piece of chicken and licked her fingers, the little sucking sound her mouth made being the most erotic he’d ever heard. “What does a laid-back, easygoing guy like you know about terror?”

The memory of his car accident flickered through him: fierce rain, a wild storm, slippery roads, a damn deer in the way, brakes not responding… The moment of stark horror as his car careened out of control toward the huge tree at the end of his driveway. Then being dragged from the wreckage by a wet, trembling Rose…and waking up days later in the hospital.

What did he know of terror? Plenty. But he gave her an easy smile. “It’s fiction, Mel.”

She laughed at herself, and he loved the sound of her amusement, getting the feeling that she didn’t do it very often.

“What does your family think of what you do?” she asked.

“My mom and dad are gone, and my brothers are in the army. They’re a little mystified by the fact I’d rather use a pencil than a gun, but they’re proud.” He brought out the cookies. “What about you? Where’s your family?” He hated himself for asking when he already knew.

She busied herself cleaning up her trash. “I grew
up in foster homes. It was okay,” she said quickly, probably used to being defensive about that.

“And your real parents?”

“I don’t know my father.” She shrugged. “And my mother…she’s around. That’s why I was never put up for adoption. The social workers kept hoping my mother would eventually take me back. Just so happens she didn’t get around to wanting to do it until I was already grown.”

He handed her a cookie. “In the name of being bad.” Their fingers brushed, and she pulled away.

“Why do you do that?” he asked quietly. “Shy away from my touch?”

“I don’t know you very well.”

“And if you did…would that change? You not liking to be touched?”

She looked away. “I’m not much of a people person. I’d have figured if you’d learned anything about me in the past few days, it’d have been that.”

“Mel…”

He waited until she looked at him and gave her a slow smile meant to charm. He handed her another cookie. “Why did you think I came back with that damn parrot?”

She sighed. “I knew there was nothing wrong with that parrot. I thought you came back with it simply to—” She let out a little laugh and sipped her wine.